Puffskein Panic!
by FurryNemesis
Summary: Following a desperate attempt by those crazy trekkies to get rid of their little furry problems, Tribbles are loose in Hogwarts! Much hilarity ensues! Contains Snape-bashing, Snape-shredding, and vast quantities of cute dangerous furriness!
1. Puffskein Panic! Act I

**Tribble Trouble / Puffskein Panic!**

**Chapter One: Prelude: How the Fur hit the Fan**

_Standard disclaimer applies. The universes belong to their owners. The plot belongs mostly to me, seeing as the co-owner would probably kill me if identified._

"I don't care if you break it! Get them out of here while you can!"

"Are you mad! We'll blow out the pattern buffers with this many!"

"Just do it before they wake up and start breeding again!"

"I'm telling you, we can't do it all at once! Not an entire cargo bay-full!"

"The gas won't keep them all asleep long enough to do two runs! We _have_ to do them all right now!"

"We don't have enough power reserves to control a transport that big!"

The object of the argument – or rather, objects – were dozing on the floor of DS11's hub cargo bay in a huge yellowish-brownish-creamy heap about the size of a room. Each was small and furry and vaguely round, and they were inspiring the fear of god into the two men nearby.

"We're out of options! Hit the bloody panel!"

"Idiot! If we lose the buffers in mid-port the safeties will kick in and reset the target co-ordinates! They'll be random! God knows where they might end up!"

"I don't care, as long as it's not here!"

"Fine! But if they end up with the Borg then we're all screwed and I'm blaming **you**!"

Parts of the heap started to emit a strange sort of groggy-sounding squeaky buzz. The stressed-out and panicky transporter chief's head snapped around towards the source, his face a rictus of horror behind the full body biosuit that he wore. There was a suggestion of movement on the outer edges of the surreal pile. The buzzing grew stronger. It sounded like a dying balloon on bad LSD.

"Oh, hell! They're waking up! Do it! Do it now!"

"I know, damnit!"

The sound changed, becoming deeper and more menacing. A buzzing roar filled the cargo bay as both men ran for cover behind the makeshift transport station near the bay doors. The junior Ensign/technician frantically worked the controls as the furry, growling heap started to vibrate.

"They're pissed off! Hurry!"

"So would you be if you'd been gassed and then shoved into a heap! I'm going as fast as I can!"

"Go faster!"

"There!"

A blue glow appeared in the air around the pile of fur. It grew and sparkled and made a noise like musical tinsel. To the intense relief of both men the heap started to fade from view. But all of a sudden –

"Hell! The buffers are overloading! I can't purge them fast enough!"

"Dump the pattern to the main computer!"

Smoke started pouring from the bank of towers behind them as the tech wrestled frantically with the machine.

"I can't! It's too long, it'll fragment!"

"Increase the power then!"

"Target co-ordinates have reset! I can't reprogram them! Going to full power!"

The chief started praying. Suddenly, the blue glow turned green, and a cascade of glowing particles filled the air. He panicked.

"What! A temporal field! Purge everything! Stop the transport!"

The tech hit every reset button that he could reach, but with a crack, the buzzing, growling heap vanished from view. There was a flare of green as the field collapsed.

"It's too late! They've gone!"

The crackling and hissing of the ruined transport station was only sound in the room as the two men stared, utterly stunned, at the empty bay.

"I told you this would happen", the Ensign said dejectedly.

The transport chief tried to hold back the dread in his voice. "Where… where have we sent them?"

"I don't know…but that's not the worst part…"

"I know. I know."

There was a further silence. The Ensign's voice cracked in fear as he whispered:

"The question is… _when_ have we sent them to?"


	2. Puffskein Panic! Act II

**Puffskein Panic!**

**Chapter 2: Rude Awakenings or: Snape's big mistake**

_Professor Brown belongs to me, and is not related to any student. The plot belongs to me as well. The Puffskeins belong to themselves, as I doubt that anyone would want to be insane enough to own the entire horde, and the owners of both borrowed universes own those too. _

Harry Potter dragged himself down the stairs to the Great Hall on automatic, flopped into his customary place in between Ron and Hermione, listlessly took a piece of toast from the rack and nibbled on it as if there was a chance that it might nibble back at any moment.

"'Morning Harry. Not feeling well?" Hermione had noticed his bedraggled appearance and seeing as anything Harry-related came before even books, was instantly alert for anything from scar-itis to Post-Traumatic-Umbridge-itis.

"Rough night? Ron asked, managing to drag his attention away from his customary overloaded plate.

"I had the most messed-up dream ever", Harry declared in between bites of toast. "Snape started wearing pink instead of his normal mouldy black, Dumbledore was wandering around in his underpants going on about rings and eyes and some place called Mordor to thin air and Filch was muttering about calling in "Ghostbusters" on Peeves or something."

"Ouch, mate." Ron grinned "Hey, at least it wasn't Filch in his skivvies."

Hermione looked up from eating and reading at the same time. "Or Snape."

"Or Snape in pink pants."

"Or Snape naked."

"Hermione! Have you really seen?… Oh, urgh. That's disgusting…"

"You started it."

"I did not."

"Yes, you did."

"I merely mention that he's still naked under the robes. Just like all of us."

"Really, and since when have you been so flaming sharp and cheerful at a quarter to eight on a Monday morning?"

"Really, Ron." She eyed his piled plate with mirth. "Have you been too busy stuffing your face to notice what you've been eating - again?"

"Of course not!" he shot back, "it's, err…" he tried to sneak a glance at his plate unnoticed "…pancakes and maple syrup today."

"Exactly" She grinned.

"What?"

"Sugar rush."

"Ah, hell…"

Harry groaned, half-heartedly threw the remainder of his toast at Ron and then buried his face in his hands. A muffled protest of "It'sfartooearlyinthemorningforthiskindofrubbish…" emanated from Fortress Potter as his friends grinned at each other across the table.

"…a hyper bookworm. Just what we needed." he whispered _ sotto voice _across the table

"Shut up, Quaffle-head" she whispered back.

"Know-it-all."

"Bludger-brain."

"Book-basher."

"Troll-face"

"Ron'Mioneshutuprightnoworelse…"

"Or else what, Harry?"

But they never had a chance to find out.

A glance at the ceiling of the great hall would have confirmed that it was shaping up to be a sunny summer's day. However, the view was suddenly blocked by an expanding green haze near the apex of the hall that sparkled and shimmered. A sphere of blue suddenly formed within the green and then turned turquoise. The air shimmered, and there was a tinkling sound. Everyone started talking at once.

"Is it dark magic?"

"Did the ceiling spell go wrong?"

"Hey, there's something in there!"

And indeed there was. An enormous, indistinct shape was suddenly visible inside the turquoise glow. It was vibrating and giving out a kind of wailing warbling noise. It sounded angry.

"Whatever it is, it's not happy…"

The glow vanished, and in the exact centre of the Great Hall hung a huge sphere of something fluffy. It was mottled in colour, all shades of brown through to deepest yellow, and it was vibrating and humming. It looked like a giant, demented koosh ball on steroids.

"Hey, it's moving! Look, it's made up of lots of little ones!"

"Looks like puffskeins to me…"

"Hundreds of them…"

"How…? Why…?"

"It's not coming down, you know…"

"Great, a huge ball of levitating fluff. Just what we needed."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"They sound rather pissed off…"

"How did they get here and what the heck is going on?"

"I have no idea…"

Meanwhile, at the staff table, where everyone – well, almost everyone - had recovered from the initial shock…

"Ahem… stay calm, everyone… Professors, your attention please… your opinions?"

"It's obviously got some kind of charm on it."

"That's no ordinary Leviosa, Filius. There must be hundreds of them up there…"

"An Omen! An Omen! We are invaded!"

"Do shut up, Sybil. This is very interesting…"

"How did they get in here in the first place? That wasn't apparition."

"Never mind that, why are they all in a clump? It looks like they've been pushed together somehow"

"Damnedest thing I ever saw…"

"Language, Rubeus…"

"Sorry, Headmaster"

There was silence, apart from the faint humming from the furry blob. Then…

"Er… how are we going to get it down? Whatever's holding it up doesn't seem to be wearing off …"

"That can be rectified."

Albus Dumbledore went pale. "Severus, NO!"

"Finite Incantatem!"

Everyone flinched.

Nothing happened.

" What!" Snape shook his wand up and down very hard in front of his face. The rest of the staff started breathing again.

"Right… whatever it is, it isn't magic…"

"Ahem… excuse me…"

A thin, balding man wearing brown robes and a pair of faded jeans spoke up from the end of the table.

"I think it might have something to do with muggles."

"That's absurd, man! How could they get something in here? They can't even see the place!"

"I don't know, but I do know what's holding them together. It's static electricity."

"Spastic what!"

"_Static _electricity, Professor. I _am_ head of Muggle Studies, if you remember. Look at them. They're fluffy. Very fluffy. There's got to be a huge electrical charge there holding them all together."

"Professor Brown, that makes little sense. Electricity doesn't last long here due to the magic."

"I think that it's created a shared field. The magical and electrical fields have interacted and created a new, stable field. That's what's holding them up there."

"Fascinating… So how do we bring them down?"

"Well, if we disrupt the field with a spell, it should collapse."

"What about my Finite Incantatem? That didn't work, did it?"

"That's not a spell as such, just a projected dampening field. It didn't work because the forces are too interlaced. You need proper magic, I think."

"Thank you, Professor. Right, - _sonorous – _Nobody move, please. We are going to try and bring it down to ground level. Will everyone please stay back. _Quietus - _ Try and get it in front of us if you can, Filius. I don't want the students getting anywhere near it for the time being. Softly does it, now."

Flitwick stood up in his seat, took careful aim on the mass of floating creatures and said, "Accio Puffskeins!"

Something yellow and furry came zooming out of the hovering ball at an insane speed and hit the tiny charms professor with a "flump" and a squeak. He was catapulted backwards out of sight with a shocked look on his face. Dumbledore thought that he could hear a few snorts of laughter, and –he could have sworn - some kind of giggling noise from on high.

"Filius!"

A slightly wobbly voice spoke up from behind the podium. "I'm all right, Albus. They're very soft, actually… A lot lighter than normal ones… Thank-you, Minerva. Here, Hagrid, hang on to this one. I believe it's your department, after all."

Hagrid gently took the custard-coloured ball of fluff and held it up to eye-level.

"'Ere, this ain't like any Puffskein I've ever seen. It's too light." He bounced it up and down in his hands a few times to illustrate. Every time it came down it gave a slight squeak. "'s the wrong shape too, this one's flatter 'n normal." He placed it on his massive shoulder for safekeeping, and was therefore utterly surprised when it somehow crawled into his beard and started warbling and purring. Albus smiled and twinkled.

"Whatever it is, I think it likes you, Hagrid."

There was a collective moment of "aah, cute" thoughts before someone cleared their throat.

"Ahem… Headmaster?"

"Yes, Severus?"

"This is daft, headmaster. We'll be here all day at this rate. Perhaps something a little stronger…?"

"I...well, go on. But be careful. Merlin only knows how many there are up there."

Snape eyed the floating fluffball sighted on the centre of it. He squared his sloping shoulders and spoke, very forcefully:

"Diffindo!"

"NO! Not that one! _Any_ spell but that one!" screamed Professor Brown in horror.

After that, everything happened in slow motion.

The spell hit the mass dead-centre.

There was a collective indrawing of breath.

Then there was an almighty crackle and a blinding blue flash as the sphere exploded in a slow, graceful showering cascade of screaming, warbling hairballs. It was as if someone had let off a huge, tabby, supremely pissed-off furry firework inside the Great Hall.

It rained fluff. They landed in plates and on the floor, on benches and sideboards. There was a chorus of thumps and squeaks as they bounced off walls and tables, creating sheer havoc. Several students were hit and went down like ninepins. Food was splattered as some of them landed in great bowls of maple syrup, whilst others smashed into stacks of pancakes and jugs of pumpkin juice, their screams dopplering as they rocketed down tables, demolishing everything in their paths. A cacophonic chorus of squeaks and warbles and squeals echoed around the hall.

It was sheer carnage on a most grand scale. As the last plate tinkled to a rolling halt, as the last indignant squeal faded away there was a deep and profound silence. Shell-shocked puffskeins littered the floor, looking for all the world like multicoloured discarded mops. Food was splashed all over the hall, and there were great streaks of syrup all along the tabletop. There were a few faint and traumatised squeaks of protest before the entire collective apparently passed out en masse from the shock.

From the staff table, there was an owlish silence as all eyes came to rest firmly on one Severus Snape, now dripping syrup from his great hooked beak. Noticing the glares of hate radiating from all corners off the hall and utterly desperate to somehow detract attention from himself, he fished a sodden puffskein out of the jug of iced pumpkin juice in front of him and held it up, somewhat experimentally, by a thumb and a forefinger. It was a poor little thing, utterly bedraggled and totally sodden. He blinked. It was shivering. For the first time in his life he was speechless.

"I…er…may have overdone it somewhat."

From between his fingers came a tiny yet unmistakable sneeze.

He took his napkin and, supporting the quivering, dripping creature from underneath, made a few lame attempts at drying it off.

"Sorry…" he mumbled.

The quivering intensified.

"Shouldn't have used that spell…"

The furball was now in danger of shaking itself to bits.

"Stupid thing to do, really… he muttered distractedly.

There was an insane, high-pitched screech of pure rage as the half-dry puffskein launched itself straight at his face. Snape went down like a greasy brick, screaming.

As a disjointed series of yelps, squeaks and shrieks of pain and fury ("Teeth! They have TEETH! HELP! ARGH!") issued forth from behind the podium once more, the puffskein in Hagrid's beard started leaping up and down, squeaking in what could only be described as glee. The rest of the collective, apparently recovered from the shock of having been splattered six ways 'til Wednesday, followed suite, until the hall was filled with leaping, cheering puffskeins. Some of the students joined in.

After exchanging glances of a "well-_I'm_-not-stopping-it" nature at each other, the staff table sat back down as one to salvage what was left of breakfast with an air of studied indifference, clearly giving their potions master up as a lost cause. Dealing with carnage of this sort, Dumbledore advised them, was better done on a full stomach than an empty one.

Over the laughs and chatter and squeaks, the sound of high-pitched growling was heard, followed by a shredding noise as Snape lost his robes to other puffskeins who had sneaked around the back of the staff table to aid their colleague in delivering a thorough mauling to the now panicking potions master. Seeing himself horribly outnumbered, he somehow scrambled out of the hall, his hands clutching desperately at the scrap of robe that was hiding what was left of his dignity. There was a cheer from the whole hall as he vanished, pant-less and bloodied, down a corridor pursued by a swarm of his tormentors, none of whom seemed eager to give up the fight.

Delicately moving a puffskein away from his plate, Ron went back to his breakfast. Harry cleared a section of table with a well-placed _Scourgify_ and followed his example, while Hermione stared at one of them, face-to-fluff, utterly fascinated. The sound of munching and the clatter of utensils reigned once more, until in-between a mouthful of pancakes, Ron spoke up.

"I suppose you were right, Hermione."

"Hmm? What about?"

"The greasy git _was_ naked underneath his robes."


	3. Puffskein Panic! Act III

**Puffskein Panic!**

**Act 3: Colonisation or: Well, Er, Invasion**

_I own the plot; the people with the lawyers own the rest, apart from the puffskeins who sort of own themselves despite having been claimed by aforementioned copyright lawyers. You cannot fight the fluff. _

After all the mayhem, people were inclined to finish breakfast at a leisurely pace. However, while Harry and company were regrouping for a fresh assault on the pancakes, an air of frantic diplomacy tinged with panic had settled over the staff table.

"Albus, what makes you so sure that these…_creatures_… are harmless? Look what they did to Severus!"

Unruffled, the venerable wizard popped another pancake into his mouth. "I am sure that they felt justified, Minerva. He did drop most of them from a great height." His beard twitched just slightly.

"What happens if they start attacking students? We'll never be able to protect all of them!"

Professor Brown spoke up from the far end of the table. "They seem harmless enough. Look around you."

And indeed there were scenes of cute fluffy-wuffy furriness to be found all over the Great Hall. Hermione was still locked in a staring contest with her nearest puffskein, although it would be impossible to tell whether or not it had blinked yet due to all the fur. Ron had two on his lap and Harry was feeding half of his pancakes to one that had taken up residence next to his plate. Other students were petting them and carrying on in much the same way. 

"Well that seems to be working out," Flitwick said. "But where are we going to keep them? Hagrid? Any ideas?

"They… er… dun like to be _kept_ as such. They get angry, y'see? At being cooped up. Bes' thing to do is let them find a place by themselves."

"Are you telling me that we ought to let them roam the halls freely? Not to mention the chaos that will cause, it'll make Argus go ballistic. He'll be sweeping up hairs all day long."

"Can we get rid of them? Humanely, I mean? Maybe if we carted them off to the forest… I will _not _tolerate them in the library, that's for sure."

"Caution, Irma. Considering what they did to Severus, and the fact that they were displaced here in the first place, that's risking a serious mauling. I think we were lucky. They won't want to be moved again."

"Are you telling me that the entire teaching staff of Hogwarts is incapable of relocating a few harmless puffskeins?"

"Hagrid's right, I'm afraid. This lot are far more protective of themselves. They're not normal. I suggest we leave them be for now. They might be a bit of a menace for a few days but they'll either settle in or go somewhere else. Professor Dumbledore?"

"I concur."

"Albus! This is going to cause sheer havoc! We've got to keep them away from the students, not to mention that the Ministry will go ballistic if they hear of this!"

"Mmm, we can get around that. We can just extend the pet and familiar rules and add them to the list of permitted animals. Ministry guidelines do classify them as harmless, after all."

"Even though they've made mince of our potions master?"

Dumbledore paused in mid-chew, then shrugged. "Well, mostly harmless," he conceded.

Later that day flyers went up around the school. 

In the wake of this morning's events, students are advised that the List of Permitted Animals has been extended to include Puffskeins. A special class on the correct care of Puffskeins will be held in the Great Hall at eight O'clock this evening for those who wish to adopt one.

The Staff Room.

Upon seeing it Hermione snorted and muttered something that might have included the words "containment" and "appeasement" but was drowned out by the excited chittering coming from the depth of her bag, where she found the puffskein from her breakfast enthusiastically trying to mate with her furry pink pencil-case. 

Disgusted, she stormed off, only to reappear that evening at Hagrid's lecture. 

Hagrid stood in the Great Hall with his puffskein in his beard, summing up his talk in front of what seemed like half the school.

"What yeh have ter remember is that they hate being cooped up. Fer goodness' sake don't ever try putting them in a cage or anything like that – yeh'll probably get yer head bitten off. Let 'em roam. They're cute little critters once yeh get to know them but this lot are trickier ter handle than most. Let them come to you, feed them regularly and never, ever get them wet. They hate that. Keep them warm at night and don't annoy them 'cos you've seen what, er, happens. They'll sort of tend to adopt you rather than the other way round so leave 'em be for a bit until they've settled. Right, off you go, and remember – let 'em come to you. "

The noise level in the room rose as Hagrid exited the hall, with many students swapping theories on the origins of the school's latest fad. Hermione, now recovered from her morning shock (and unwilling to give any explanation for the conspicuous absence of her puffskein) was expounding her theory to her becoming increasingly-bored best friends.

"They can't cope with it, you know" she said with a familiar air of superiority. "They've seen what those things did to Snape and now they're clueless. They don't know what to do and they've just dumped the problem on to us. Ron, you're not listening to me, are you?"

Ron stopped eyeing Luna Lovegood's backside across the hall and pretended to pay attention. Before he could rectify the damage, however, she was off again.

"… just left us to deal with the fallout with _**no**_ regard for student safety at all. Someone's going to wind up maimed again, you wait and see."

Harry vaguely registered that the verbal torrent had stopped and tried to get a word in edgeways. "I don't care. They're loads of fun and they don't seem to run out of energy. They're exactly what this place needed. Look, have you tried feeding yours yet?"

Hermione scowled. "Yes, to Crookshanks."

"Seriously, Hermione. They eat anything. And on top of that, they feel good. Sort of like Crookshanks but without the claws."

"I'm not having another pet!"

"You might not have a choice there, Hermione" Ron said.

Harry, his attention focused elsewhere, nodded sagely. "He's right. Mine from this morning has wandered off, but look at Neville..."

Ron and Hermione turned around. A long line of mottled fluff was following a nervous-looking Neville Longbottom through the hall as he made a bid for the same door that Hagrid had used. Harry could almost feel the embarrassment flowing off him. 

"Er..."

"Flaming heck..."

"That does it, I'm locking the girls' rooms tonight. I do _not _want to wake up as a reverse pillow in the morning."

"Ron?"

"Mmm?"

"We're sleeping in the owlery tonight."

"Oh _yes_."


End file.
